


language

by sakon



Category: Shall We Date?: Wizardess Heart+
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakon/pseuds/sakon
Summary: "Yes, but watch your language, Mr. Orlem. You wouldn't want Principal Goldstein to hear that, now would you?" He said with a harsh laugh. What a first thing to say.Damn, his voice straight twinkled like beautiful Christmas bells, reminding him of Tinkerbell— the one fairy movie the kids always asked to watch. God damn, he was beautiful, but Luca wasn't one to gawk; he was the one to be gawked at."Right, right," He answered, scratching the back of his neck.Luca, a tired art teacher, meets the new English teacher.
Relationships: Elias Goldstein/Luca Orlem
Kudos: 6





	language

—

Stupidity was the natural order of many things— but two things to be particular: life and kids. And be as it may, he got stuck with the harsh, grating side of stupid. But, the indubitable stupidity was somehow amusing. It came saddled with his job, after all. It was enjoyable to see the kids frolock, screams and cries of innocence, adorable tiny children scurrying and waddling across the room of the classroom during their time of joy. 

Luca sighed, a hand sitting on his forehead as he watched over the children. Their innocence warmed him and made him feel happier, even it was soon and forever fleeting. Upon thinking of fleeting, his eyes flickered to the door.

Arms wiggling and on their tippy-toes, the children were trying to reach for paint. 

Almost on cue, he felt a tug at his shirt.

"Mr. Orlem! Can we paint, Mister?" The children jumped around him, tugging on the fabric of his worn shirt with big smiles. A few children, those who didn't move, pouted.

How could he resist those puppy dog eyes?

"Of course," He paused, then grinned, "But remember, put the paint up or you're gettin' bad grades, 'kay?"

Of course he would let them paint; he was their art teacher. But to his dismay, half of his room had to be split for the new arriving English teacher, a supposedly young dude with a knack for old, old macabre poems, and he was pretty sure that the incoming guy wouldn't like a mess for greeting. Ah, the struggles of under-funding. 

With the crowd of young, rowdy children rushing over to the counter and pulling out paint with his supervision, Luca breathed in, then out. Though his job was by far one of the easier teaching positions, as he dealt with many of the lower grade students and got to see his young students blossom into ready pre-teens (which made it much easier to deal with) it wasn't the easiest. He stayed eternally scrubbing floors, cleaning tiles, and teaching those who were curious enough how to draw what they pleased.

Well, that part wasn't so bad, but constantly cleaning crayons marks off the damn desks _did_ make him insane. 

The sound of a soft thud followed by gasps yanked him from his tired trance. He didn't know he wasn't staring so intensely at the floor. Looking up from the noise, the courtesy slump in burden of cleaning and the familiar walk to get a bunch of paper followed when he saw the mess. 

"Goddammit, _again_?" Luca uttered, walking over to the mess spot, catching the bright blue with his soft eyes. 

His hand, on autopilot, reached into his apron pocket, pulling out a musty rag to clean up the blue tempura paint all over the floor. The kid who spilt it, looking ashamed of himself, broke into tears, big fat globs of salty tears rolling down his cheeks.

Luca winced at the shrill shrieks of the kids around him, then positioned himself in front of the kid. 

Kneeling down on his knees, Luca placed his hands on the boys shoulders and looked him in the eye. He wiped away the boys tears and gave him a small smile, ruffling his hair to knock the rest of the tears out. Perhaps it was his height, being a bit on the tall side, heavy black bags under his eyes, and everything else about him that indicated he would be mad over a spill. But well, he was a teacher, not a damn parent. 

Luca scoffed at the notion of being mad over a spill. 

"Oi, Ronny, don't cry," Luca heard a few sniffles as the boy wiped his tears from his eyes with his chubby arm.

"There's nothing to cry over, kid." He ruffled the boys hair and pulled another rag out of his pocket, holding it out.

Ronny grabbed it, holding the tiny rag to his chest. 

"Okay, mister..." with a few more sniffles, the crying faded and the two started to clean up the mess.

After comforting the child with a soothing hug and kind words, he watched him clean up the mess. Cleaning a little up for himself after the child couldn't get the smears off, Luca dusted his hands off on his raggedy apron and stood up.

Turning around, he nearly jumped back at the sight. Some hot, cute ass blonde guy was standing right there, staring at him with an almost listless expression. 

One half of his classroom got cordoned off because the school wasn't big enough, resulting in them needing more space to drag more teachers into the establishment.

The blonde with notably purple eyes looked absolutely exhausted, with stray hairs matted against his face from the sweet heat of the sun, soft red showing through on his perfect skin.

"Hey, you're the new teacher, aren't you?" Luca grinned, a cheerful smile extended towards the other man.

If beautiful was a word, it would be him. He was unnaturally beautiful for a teacher, especially a dude-- and Luca was most definitely into dudes, though not all dudes. Hell, not most. But the guy was rather cute, with big round eyes, high cheekbones, and a young, fresh face, so the teacher was definitely an exception. His blonde hair framed his face, soft pink on his skin and porcelain skin unusually clear, teaching clothes unusual in the dusty, run down part of town.

No wonder he was flushed, he had an overcoat on. Luca shook his head at the sight. 

"Yes, but watch your language, Mr. Orlem. You wouldn't want Principal Goldstein to hear that, now would you?" He said with a harsh laugh. What a first thing to say. 

Damn, his voice straight twinkled like beautiful Christmas bells, reminding him of Tinkerbell— the one fairy movie the kids always asked to watch. God damn, he was beautiful, but Luca wasn't one to gawk; he was the one to be gawked at.

"Right, right," He answered, scratching the back of his neck. 

Luca examined the boxes from a view while the teacher carried boxes one by one, lithe figure managing the boxes with ease as he settled into the sectioned part of the classroom. 

The awkward silence was too much.

"Mind me helping?" Without thinking, and perhaps with thirst on his mind, he followed the young man. The blonde smiled, name still unknown to Luca, then he turned around. Soon, the boxes in the English teacher's arms were pushed into Luca's paint crusted arms, a smile on his face despite the rude undertones. 

The new teacher walked away again, reaching for the box of textbooks, pages still clean and crisp somehow. Luca could tell from the outside of the pages and the spine that they were clean and crystal. The sharpie on the cardboard box told him that the slightly dusted books were from years back, but they were in pristine condition. Luca followed again, boxes balanced on one arm as he tapped the new teacher on the shoulder once more.

"Yes, Mr. Orlem?" Annoyance practically radiated off of him, eyes almost switching into a darker shade of his bright amethyst when he turned around. Okay, mood change then. Luca took a step back, clenching the boxes to his side so they wouldn't tip.

"Since ya know, we're gonna be colleagues and all, can I get your name?" Did his voice break? Did he stutter? Damn, being a teacher utterly _destroyed_ him.

"Of course, Orlem. The name is Elias Goldstein." Elias answererd, curt and with a friendly smile. Luca's heart did _somethin',_ and it wasn't good that time. The only word he could use to describe it was damn. That, and oh shit.

Luca blinked and sighed. Damn it, why didn't he see the resemblance earlier? The striking golden hair and the unmistakable eyes were a clear sign that they were related. The principal, a strict, but fair man in his own right, cracked down hard on the staff, especially him. A secret to stay in his own mind, Luca thought the man was a bit of a dick.

Damn, maybe Luca was distracted by his pretty ass face, but the rumour mill said nothin' about him being related. And because Klaus didn't mention it or give any info... Luca's sources didn't go _that_ far.

Shaking his head, Luca watched him. Elias looked more like his mother than father, without the harsh eyes of his father and with his mother's gentle smile. Mrs. Goldstein had always been a dear, happy to work a menial, difficult job. She had been the librarian for their school for years, since he got there three years ago, and more than twenty years before then. Praying to all the beings under the sun, he hoped that Elias would be as kind as her. He better not be like Klaus' old, dusty ass. 

"Oh nice, ha, uh I'm Luca Orlem?" 

Elias' gaze flickered down to Luca's paint-stained arms and apron, then the messy bun, as if saying 'I know'.

"Nice to meet you then, Luca Orlem." He walked away briskly. It seemed as if the man was determined to avoid him. That rather stung, but it was fine; he couldn't be friendly with all of his colleagues now could he?

Luca was about to speak, debating over choice words then biting his tongue. Well, if he wanted to walk away, then Luca wasn't the guy to chase 'em.

Sighing, Luca set the boxes down and pinched his nose bridge. This was going to be a long, long year. Perhaps it would be better with this young man's presence... maybe. 

Or maybe not.

—


End file.
